And Then (I Met You)
by define-serenity
Summary: [Barry/Caitlin] Two weeks ago Caitlin had bet him 10 to go up to Lisa Snart and ask her out with his mouth full of peanuts. It'd earned him ten dollars, but still, his pride could only take so much. A dare involving a paid couples study seems exactly the payback he's looking.


**author's notes:** Written for **Snowbarry Week 2016** , Day 1: pretend dating.

 **(!)** explicit content

.

 **And Then (I Met You)**

.

.

* * *

PAID RESEARCH OPPORTUNITY ($35-$60)

 **Sex Talk** is looking for 18-24 year olds to participate in a study to talk about sex and relationships!

 **You and your partner are eligible to participate if you,** (1) are in a committed, monogamous romantic relationship, and (2) are both over the age of 18.

 **You and your partner can participate by,** (1) joining us for a 90-minute one-on-one interview, and/or (2) a 120-minute joint interview where you will be asked in-depth questions about your relationship and sexual activities.

* * *

Cisco's eyes narrow on the flyer on the notice board. He rubs at his chin, reading over the three short paragraphs a few times while the gears of several stray thoughts click together.

Two weeks ago Caitlin had bet him $10 to go up to Lisa Snart and ask her out with his mouth full of peanuts, which ended up embarrassing him not only in front of a beautiful dame, but quite a few of their mutual friends.

It'd earned him ten dollars, but still, his pride could only take so much. Before the Incident he'd wanted to ask Lisa out for real, now he could barely look her in the eyes long enough to place his coffee order.

A dare involving a paid sex study seems exactly the payback he's looking for.

.

.

That early Monday afternoon the dining hall buzzes with one-third of the student body, and the old trite high school hierarchy disappears in the wake of too few seats for too many hungry students. Lucky for Caitlin Snow, 22-year-old biochemistry major, her roommate Cisco Ramon, 21-year-old mechanical engineering major, saved her a seat every day; their lectures got out at different times in separate buildings, but she could count on Cisco to find them a seat without fail.

She and Cisco lived together in a small two-bedroom one-bathroom contraption off campus. When She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and her broke up, The Dark One took all her stuff without even trying to fight for the place they'd been splitting the rent on, and left, never to be seen again. It'd been such a sudden disappearing act she still felt the whiplash of it months later, and clearly hadn't been in her right mind when she'd taken Cisco's offer of moving in with her.

Still, in so many ways Cisco's enthusiasm and impeccably timed humor had helped her get over her ex, so ultimately she'd made the right choice.

Six months ago she and Cisco hadn't bothered learning each other's last names; now they knew exactly what situations to get each other into to cause a maximum amount of embarrassment.

That's why she reads over the flyer Cisco pushed her way several times, eyes meticulously moving over each word, analyzing each turn of phrase that Cisco might interpret differently than her.

It all seemed astoundingly straightforward, though, as did the dare Cisco attached to it.

"You're joking." Caitlin arches an unaffected eyebrow. "All I have to do is ask Barry to do this study with me?"

"Bonus round." Cisco scoots to the edge of his seat. "Ten dollars if you ask him. Twenty if he says yes and you see the whole thing through."

The fact that Cisco seemingly thinks up this part on the spot eases Caitlin's mind; if he hasn't taken the proper time to think about this, then there won't be any surprises waiting for her down the line.

Her dare two weeks ago had clearly set under Cisco's skin. Granted, she'd been a little tipsy, and at the time Lisa had looked like a wonderfully alluring target, but Cisco could've declined.

Caitlin smiles slowly.

"Don't give me that look, woman," Cisco growls. "I liked Lisa Snart."

"Oh, sure." She chuckles. "That why you never talked to her?"

"I've been waiting for the right time!" Cisco's voice gains strength. "And now thanks to you I'll have to step up my game."

"Game?" Caitlin laughs, unable to contain herself at the thought. Cisco has game now? She's seen him bend over backwards to get girls' attention- her dare hadn't been the craziest thing he'd ever done in the name of love.

Cisco sighs. "Are you doing this, or not?"

Chewing at her lower lip, Caitlin locates Barry across the cafeteria, sitting alone at a corner of a table, no doubt reading one of his science fiction novels. If it's another Aldous Huxley one she might have to resist ripping it in half in front of his eyes. She has nothing against science fiction literature, per se- it's Barry Allen she takes issue with.

For the sake of earning back the ten dollars she'd lost, however, she could quiet those frustrations for a few minutes.

She looks back at Cisco, raises a prideful eyebrow, and says, "Easiest ten bucks I'll ever make," before leaving the table with the flyer, and weaving through the bustle of students eating lunch.

College life suited her. After the torment high school had been it came as a breath of fresh air, with more flexible hours and classes that all played into her interests. She liked the huge lecture halls with their half-circle designs, the seats that somehow became 'hers' in the first week alone, and even the people, whether they were likeminded scientists like her, teachers, or frat boys- they all were part of the culture. College came with its own prescribed set of rules, customs, and slang, all things that came to her with ease.

She felt respected here, more than anything, and that'd never been a sentiment she related to a school environment.

And then she'd met Barry Allen.

Boyband smile.

CW hair.

The Original Offence that drove them apart didn't bear mentioning, but it's safe to say Barry Allen hadn't made the best first impression, and never ingratiated himself in subsequent encounters. Sure, he scored perfectly in each of Dr Wells' classes and she could use someone like him in her study group, but Barry preferred being on his own, a selfish loner.

On top of that he had this farm boy charm about him that enchanted a lot of their teachers—Professor Morgan fell for it every single time, even going so far as extending a deadline for him, and Dr Wells, an overly pragmatic and rational teacher, took a particular liking to Barry she simply didn't understand.

She never had the constitution to use any charm she might have to benefit her academically, and watching Barry do it so easily was enough to drive her up the wall.

So it made sense for Cisco to pick Barry as her target- if she didn't take great pride in rising to each of Cisco's challenges she wouldn't do this on the mere principle of the thing, but she can't back out of this. She'd never hear the end of it, and unlike Barry, she had to live with Cisco.

Cisco chose this battle well.

With her aggravation set aside, Caitlin calculates what to say and mention to Barry, and makes her way over to his table.

As expected, her presence barely gets a rise out of him.

She plasters the semblance of a smile over her features. "Hey, Barry."

"Snow," Barry acknowledges, without looking up from his book.

Right. She knew this wouldn't be easy- even Cisco knew this wouldn't be easy, but that was the whole point of this. She'll have to tough through and tackle this like she would any other problem: with her brain.

She sits down opposite Barry at the table, smoothing her skirt neatly underneath her.

"I have a bit of a strange question."

This makes Barry look up, lowering his book to the table.

 _Brave New World_.

Honestly.

"A business proposal, really," she amends, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, and slides the flyer across the table in much the same manner Cisco had ten minutes ago.

Barry's eyes fall to the single sheet of paper, and read over the few typed paragraphs.

"I'm not in a relationship," he says.

"Neither am I."

 _Not anymore_ , a little devil whispers, and even after all these months her heart burns at the loss. She might not speak the Devil-in-Black's name anymore, but that didn't mean she didn't still preoccupy a lot of her waking moments. Break-ups sucked.

But that's not the worry at hand. She's here to make some money.

Caitlin shrugs. "But they don't have to know that."

Barry's eyes flick from the sheet of paper in front of him up to her face, then back again. "Are you setting me up?"

"Not at all," her voice softens. "It's easy money."

With every right to be suspicious Barry rereads the flyer; he's a scholarship student, so he didn't have too many worries when it came to paying his tuition, but every student needs money at some point. She likes having extra cash on hand for non-essentials, like a cute new dress, or Victoria's Secret lingerie. That's half the reason she started humoring Cisco with these dares in the first place.

What if Barry asks her why it had to be him, though? Should she tell him about the bet?

Of all the boys or girls on this entire campus, why would she choose Barry to do this with?

She should probably come up with some type of answer in case Barry gets curious. If it weren't for this dare Barry would have to be the last person on the planet before she'd consider this, and even then, she'd do so reluctantly.

"Okay," Barry says.

She blinks.

Once.

Twice.

Her eyes widen. Has Barry Allen agreed to sign up for a couples study on sex with her?

"Y-You'll do it."

Was he testing her?

"Yeah." Barry nods. "I'll do it."

 _He'll do it?_

She hadn't counted on him agreeing to this. It could be the perfect opportunity to earn another ten dollars and show Cisco once and for all who's the true Queen around their apartment, but why would Barry willingly do this with her?

"Okay," she breathes, still in shock, but she can't sit here gaping like a fish out of water. If Barry's in, she's in too- she's not going to lose face and admit she did this for a silly bet, least of all to someone so rude and inconsiderate.

She steals the pencil Barry's using to make notes in his book to scribble on the flyer. "This is my number and my email. We have to sign up and come up with convincing background stories."

Barry clicks his tongue, but refrains from spewing anything snide; he folds the flyer and tucks it in between the pages of his book. His eyes fall to her face, pinning her down as if trying to read her reasoning. Why him? Why now? Why this specific study?

"I guess we'll talk later," he says.

For another moment or two she stares at him, unclear about the etiquette in this situation. Do they make small talk for a while longer? Does she break eye contact first and leave? Have Barry's eyes always been so obnoxiously green?

Caitlin blinks and breathes in deep, getting up without another word. Who cares that Barry Allen's eyes are green?

She finds her way back to Cisco, as if she'd made the simplest business transaction rather than put herself in a potentially embarrassing situation. She'll cross that bridge when she gets to it.

"And?"

"He said yes."

Cisco's face falls. "Wait, what?"

Caitlin smiles triumphantly; Cisco hadn't expected her to make it this far, so imagine his surprise when she sees this all the way through.

"Guess you owe me twenty."

"Nah, sister." Cisco wags a finger. "You have to see it through. Considering you two hate each other's guts, I'll just hand you ten now."

Cisco digs around in his back pocket and hands her a rumpled ten-dollar bill; one down, one more to go. The prospect of working with Barry might not be her favorite part of this bet but one never knows where this might lead; the flyer had mentioned up to sixty dollars could be earned through the joint interview, and she might learn something about Barry she can use against him one day.

Or, she might end up regretting this in the long run.

But there's no harm in trying.

.

Two days later, armed with a generous amount of apprehension, Caitlin visits Barry in his dorm.

After thinking it over a few times she's not convinced this was at all a good idea- she can't stand Barry, and she made it a point to arrange her life around things she couldn't stomach. On the other hand, she means to get her hands on that other ten-dollar bill more than anything, if not just to show Cisco she can play in the big leagues. She knows she can be stuffy and overly strait-laced, but that doesn't apply to every aspect of her life, surely.

No, she'll tackle this problem too, and show Cisco what she's made of.

Once she's located the right building, Caitlin's happy to find that most stories she heard about the residence halls being noisy cesspools were exaggerated; the small entrance hall smells stale and humid, but at least there's no trash in sight. Sadly, the stairwell is a different matter; there are beer cans crushed up in a corner and even a used condom.

Caitlin wrinkles her nose, and hurries up to the third floor as fast as her legs can carry her. She can't wait to get this over with.

Half a minute later she knocks on Barry's door, getting more than a few stares from other residents- one would think they'd never seen a girl before in their life.

"You the new girlfriend?" a thick British accent sounds behind her, and she turns to find a scruffy-looking guy leering at her; Julian Albert, if she's not mistaken, a criminology major. Their paths have crossed in some biochemistry seminars, but not often enough to warrant this level of familiarity. Is this the kind of person Barry surrounds himself with?

Her eyebrows knit together in a frown. "No."

What would give him the impression she's here on a social call? Everyone on campus knows she and Barry don't get along, and Julian damn well knows who she is too. So what's he getting at? Does Barry get such few girls knocking at his door?

Julian's eyes sweep down her body. "Booty call then?"

Her jaw drops, and she bristles, her eyes widening. _Booty call_? Where the hell does he find the nerve to reduce her to anything so base? No one talks to her like that, and she has a mind to make the entire building know exactly what she thinks of Neanderthals like Julian, but—

"Piss off, Julian," comes Barry's voice behind her, along with the subtle creak of his door, "before I let her poison you in your sleep."

Shook and burning with rage, Caitlin still can't help the small smile that curls around a corner of her mouth. She hardly needs anyone to fight her battles, but Barry defending her honor by complimenting her skills in the biochemistry lab comes as a welcome surprise.

Small as it may be, Barry's dorm room proves surprisingly clean; it's messy, but there's no trash anywhere, and no suspicious smells that might chase her away. There's a bed that seems too short to accommodate Barry's long body underneath shelves overflowing with books, a modest wardrobe, and a tiny desk Barry has somehow managed to use every inch of.

"I'm sorry about him," Barry says by way of explanation, picking some books off the bed and dropping them unceremoniously onto the floor.

Frank Herbert.

How did she know?

"It's me he has a problem with, not you."

Caitlin places her book bag on the bed, and puzzles over what Offence occurred between Barry and Julian to sour that relationship- even if it were anything like the one that drove her and Barry apart, it still didn't warrant Julian talking to her the way he had, or prying into a part of her life that most girls like to keep private.

"This can't take long." She sits down on the bed. "I have a study group in half an hour."

Barry plunks down at his desk. "We have to answer some questionnaire to get into the study," he says, scrolling up and down a webpage. "I got as far as filling out your ethnicity and highest level of education, until I realized I didn't know which lies we'd be telling."

"Why are you filling it out for me?"

"It was your idea."

She sighs, and rolls her eyes. She sincerely hopes that Cisco knows how hard this is for her; there are a million other things she could be doing right now, but she's wasting it humoring both her roommate as well as a guy she dislikes.

That doesn't sound like her one bit.

"What do they need to know?" she asks, her time too precious to spend it wallowing in self-pity.

"How would you describe your family income background?" Barry reads from the monitor. "High, middle, or low."

"High."

She doesn't miss the condescending quirk in Barry's eyebrow, so she adds, "My mom's in cryogenetics," for good measure, even though she could go on; her mom created her own company from the ground up- if her relationship with her mom weren't so strained she'd proudly tell everyone she aspires to be the woman her mom is.

Barry chuckles. "That's irony for you."

For once, she refuses to take the bait- it's hardly the first time Barry or anyone else has called her cold or uptight. Whatever. She won't change who she is.

"And your dad?" Barry asks when he fails to get a rise out of her.

Her heart sinks as the harsh reality sets around her; she's the one who opened up this line of questioning, but—

No. Not her dad.

Barry turns, and there must be something in her eyes that tells him he's gone too far, because he schools his cocky smile instantly. She won't let him taint her dad's memory, not now, not ever- no one says a bad word about her dad and gets away with it. She'd rather deal with guys like Julian for the rest of her life than let Barry make a mockery of the sweetest man she ever knew.

"He passed away."

Within nanoseconds, the mood in the room turns somber and silent. Barry swallows hard, and averts his eyes, sweeping over a picture on the windowsill before he turns back to his computer- the picture shows a beautiful and tall redhead woman. His mom? Did she—?

No. This isn't something she wants to know about Barry.

"I'm sorry." Barry swallows hard, staring at his computer screen, unblinking. "That wasn't—"

"No, it wasn't," she agrees, drawing her hands down her legs. It's such a tricky thing, her grief, a double-edged sword- one the one hand she'd rather no one know about her dad, so that was no one can pity her and no one has to try and tiptoe around it, but part of her often needs people to know. So they don't say stupid things.

Maybe this wasn't a good idea; she and Barry assume too much about each other's lives without realizing there might be tragedy at the root of their behavior, and not for the first time she's left to question his motivations. Why had he agreed to this? Did he hope to learn more of her secrets too, to use against her later? Or was it only about the money?

"Which state or province did you grow up?" Barry asks, clearly wary of asking anything other than what the survey required.

Caitlin grants him a simple answer. "Ohio."

There's no reason they can't be civil- perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad thing to tell Barry about the bet; it would clear the air regarding both their motivations. But would he still do this if he knew she was using him?

"Gender. Female," Barry supplies on his own. "Current sexual orientation. Straight."

"Bi."

Barry whips around so fast she fears he might injure his neck. "Excuse me?"

"I'm bisexual."

"Y-Yeah," Barry stutters, not too subtle about his surprise, and she finds it's oddly endearing. She'd hazard calling him cute all lost and confused, but that wouldn't be in line with her more general feelings towards him. What's the expression? One cute bewildered look doesn't make a right?

"With whom do you typically have sex?"

Barry looks at her carefully from the corner of his eye now, and Caitlin can't help the sliver of pride at confounding his expectations- he doesn't know her, and he shouldn't assume to.

Standing up, she walks over to Barry, and checks the options the survey allows. She can't say she's given this much thought before- her bisexuality isn't a matter of measure, but rather a matter of following her heart and getting it trampled on.

Caitlin sighs, "Equal male and female."

Barry checks the third box down and clicks the arrow that takes him to the next question.

 _Current relationship status_.

This is where they start lying through their teeth. If they want to get into the study they have to lie about being a couple; going through with it will require them to team up and think up convincing backstories. Is she prepared to go through all this for twenty dollars and then some?

"Friends with benefits is an option too," Barry jokes, but at this point she thinks he's trying to lighten the mood again.

"Let's keep it a little more romantic," she says, idling by Barry's side, her eyes quickly scanning through the list of options. "Three months or longer."

"Monogamous or not, my dear?"

Caitlin scowls, hovering a little closer to read the fine lettering, and not because it turns out Barry smells rather nice.

Catching herself, she focuses on the computer screen again.

Will their fictional relationship be monogamous?

Lies or no lies she doubts it will do them well to stray too far from the truth; all her relationships have been faithful and monogamous, and in her experience it's far easier to tell a lie when there's some truth embedded in it.

Without any hesitation Caitlin reaches over and checks 'monogamous.'

Barry clicks through to the next question.

"How often do you use condoms?"

"I'll leave that one to you." Caitlin pats at Barry's shoulder, adding, " _Honey_ ," in response to his earlier endearment, and sits down on the bed again.

"One hundred percent of the time."

She cocks an eyebrow; she's learning far too much about Barry in too short a time, yet somehow, perhaps through the subterfuge they're committing, it's sort of nice to get to see him in a different light. One that proves he isn't an obnoxious inconsiderate jerk all the time.

"Is that true?"

"Believe it or not, Snow"—Barry clicks his tongue—"I'm a gentleman in my real relationships."

Somehow, though, she doubts they'll ever truly get along.

She sneers, "How long ago was that?" because despite how clean Barry's dorm is there's no female touch, no pictures of girlfriends or any mementos that she can perceive. There is however a strategically placed bottle of hand lotion and a box of tissues on the bedside table- and she can't even make a snide comment about that; her apartment got purged of memories of The Dark One too, and her toys hide in her bedside table all the same.

Barry puts a hand to his chest. "Your words, _they burn_."

How she wishes she could punch him in the face without breaking a finger.

"When was the last time you had sexual physical contact with another person?"

The question comes so out of the blue she needs half a minute to get her bearings again; if they weren't filling out this survey she'd accuse Barry of prying too much into her private life too, but this is Barry running through the questions as fast as he can.

The sooner this is over, the better.

Sadly, she comes to the terrible conclusion she can't remember the last time she slept with someone, male or female- some of her friends had explained to her the notion of rebound sex, but picking someone up at a seedy bar still sounded like too much trouble carrying around a broken heart.

Looking at Barry she guesses he isn't doing much better; his eyes are fixed on the screen, and he hasn't done her the discourtesy of joking about her dry spell. Where is this 'old' girlfriend Julian implied existed? Had Barry gone through a bad break-up too?

"We've been in a happy and safe monogamous relationship for more than three months," she repeats their lies back to Barry, "Use your imagination."

"Within the past three months," Barry supplies, and finalizes the survey.

A big red 'thank you' appears on the screen, and Barry reads the smaller print out loud: "Thank you for your interest in Sex Talk. You will be contacted shortly to schedule you and your partner's interview."

Great. Now they're _partners_.

Why did she feel the need to rise to each of Cisco's challenges again?

"So this is one of your bets with Cisco, isn't it?"

Caitlin shoots up straight on the bed, eyes wide in shock. "How did you-?"

"Most people know you guys make each other do insane things." Barry smiles, and that small cocky lip twitch returns to his mouth. "And I saw him talk to Lisa Snart."

Her bets with Cisco were all in good fun, but she can't deny some of them have been pretty out there; this one time Cisco dared her to sip her Chai Tea Latte seconds after the barista handed it to her, and her tongue had felt like sandpaper for three days.

Yet each time her tongue ran over the roof of her mouth she recalled the giddy excitement in Cisco's eyes and the sound of her heartbreak dulled to a soft murmur.

People could say what they wanted about Cisco Ramon; he'd proved her salvation.

That still didn't explain one thing. Why is she so willing to see this through with Barry?

Or, vice versa-

"Why did you agree to do this with me if you knew?" she asks, unable to puzzle together Barry's reasoning. Could it be he has ulterior motives? Does he hope to catch her in an embarrassing situation?

"Like you said"—Barry shrugs—"it's easy money."

Should she believe that? Barry's never set her up or played a prank, but like Cisco said; there's a first time for everything, and somehow, she gets the sense she's putting herself in a very compromising position.

"How much is Cisco losing?"

"Ten after I asked convincingly," she says, "Another ten if I see it all the way through."

A slow smile slips across Barry's features.

And it fills her with certain dread.

"So, what you're saying is, you need me."

Caitlin's brow sets dark over her eyes, her mood plummeting; figures he'd want something besides the money he'll make. "What do you want?"

"Half of that twenty." Barry winks.

Caitlin rolls her eyes. "Fine."

.

Shortly after they moved in together Caitlin and Cisco set a strict morning routine.

Before the drafting of the Morning Charter things went awry more often than not, with Caitlin taking too much time in the bathroom whenever she conquered it, but Cisco stealing equally too much time whenever he managed to get in there first; food went inexplicably missing, and by the time they were both set to leave they had neglected at least one part of their normal routine to spend it arguing about the finer details of what it meant to be roommates.

Now, so many months later, they had the act of getting up, showering, and eating down to a tee. Cisco liked to snooze a bit longer, so Caitlin got up first, turned on the coffee machine Cisco set the night before, and skipped into the shower- meanwhile Cisco woke up and stayed well out of her way with his Morning Mood, while he ate food labeled with his name, and poured two cups of coffee.

Twenty minutes later they switched; Cisco got the bathroom and Caitlin got dressed, enjoying her breakfast and coffee in peace.

It was an organized and elegant dance that only met with hitches during the weekend, when they both liked to sleep in longer.

Today, as she finishes doing the dishes, Cisco emerges from the bathroom holding a book that's easily two inches thick.

"You showered with that thing?"

"I need every minute I can get," Cisco murmurs, focused tightly on the pages of his book.

"You say that like you've ever failed any of Palmer's tests."

Cisco's brow sets dark over his eyes. "There's a first time for everything, Caitlin."

With that, Caitlin checks herself. She pushes a small thermos of coffee into his hands, knowing better than to tempt fate any further- things are serious when Cisco uses her name like that.

Still scowling, Cisco puts the thermos in his shoulder bag, before his eyes narrow on her face. "Is that a new perfume?"

The corners of her mouth draw down. "No."

What exactly is Cisco implying?

" _Barry and Caitlin, sitting in a tree_..." Cisco sings, sprinting for the door before she can chuck her own thermos at his head on his way out.

And here she was trying to be mindful of his feelings.

She's worn this perfume for years.

Filling her thermos with hot water, she dashes into her bedroom for her book bag, joining Cisco in the hallway and locking the front door behind her. On Fridays they walk to school together since they have lectures in the same building, but that takes some coordinating in and of itself- they're such starkly different people it's a miracle they ever manage to get anything done together.

Yet here they are, making it work.

" _K. I. S. S. I. N. G_ ," Cisco finishes with a smile.

 _Somewhat_ making it work, Caitlin amends as she rolls her eyes. How has Cisco not driven her to murder yet?

The apartment isn't too far off campus, but it's still a brisk walk, one that often served to prepare her for the rest of the day. She mentally compiled a list of everything she had to do, ran through her schedule for the day, but now thanks to Cisco it's Barry who spooks through her head. For some reason she's yet to fathom, finding some part of herself in Barry has set uncomfortably under her skin- and it's not because of the Grudge still on her shoulder over what he pulled the day they met.

Somehow, it proved a lot easier to hate Barry.

"Cisco," she says, keeping pace with his tread despite the heels she's wearing.

A small voice inside warns her against this train of thought, tells her it isn't something she should want to know, because it makes no difference- but a part of her wants it to. Double-edged sword, and all.

"Do you know what happened to Barry's mom?"

Cisco breathes in deep. "She died."

Her eyes fall shut for half a second, a weight the size of her own grief doubling on her chest. Why'd she have to ask? She'd be better off not knowing- but then, wouldn't that open her up to making the same kind of mistake Barry made asking about her dad?

"Yeah, when he was really young," Cisco says. "Why? Did he mention her?"

"No." Caitlin bites at her lower lip, while Cisco's earlier question imposes itself.

She's wearing the exact same perfume she's worn for years; it's the dress that's new, but Cisco didn't need to learn the finer details behind that decision.

Stood in front of the mirror this morning, she decided she wanted to look her best- and while she did that for herself, first and foremost, on some unconscious level she had an ulterior motive. She wanted to be seen, noticed, by none more than Barry Allen.

And why?

It's not like they got along, and it's not like lying their way through this study will bring them any closer together, or make them friends.

Caitlin crosses her fingers before Cisco disappears inside his lecture hall.

His test will go fine; Cisco's often prone to panicking over nothing, like she seems to be prone to working herself into impossible scenarios that only serve to add to her confusion.

She enjoys dressing up and looking good, and that didn't have anything to do with attracting a boyfriend or a girlfriend, but this is ridiculous. There's no need for her to impress Barry- but she can't deny he makes her self-conscious.

Caught up in her own thoughts, Caitlin lets out an undignified squeal passing the restrooms, pulled inside by a dainty hand, and soon finds herself cornered.

"What are you doing with Barry?" comes a voice, along with a set of eyes that burn holes through her.

"Excuse me?" is her initial response. What just happened? Has she been kidnapped?

Her inner ear catches up slowly, and her brain takes longer still, but she recognizes the Digital Media major in front of her all too easily; Iris West, Barry's best friend- dark glowing skin, long black hair, stunning smile. Despite being considered a loner, Barry and Iris came attached to the hip, and she's surprised she hasn't heard from her sooner. If she were in Iris' shoes she might do the same thing to the girl seemingly trying to profit off her best friend.

She sighs, "Nothing."

Iris cocks an eyebrow. "So you're not pretending to date him to collect money in a research study?"

Losing her bearings once more, all Caitlin can do is stare at the beautiful girl she's faced with; if Iris already knows what's going on, what more can she say? After the study she and Barry will part ways as if nothing ever happened.

"Look, I don't care about that"—Iris waves a hand—"But you hurt him, and I will find a way to hurt you."

Caitlin raises her hands in surrender. "No chance of that happening. We barely even like each other."

At that, Iris's eyes narrow, and her lips purse, but she seems to take her words at face value. How else can she say this? It's a dare she means to see through, pure and simple. Nothing more to it.

Yet being shown for the second time now that Barry's been hurt in ways much too similar to how she's been hurt in the past, well, it almost starts to mellow her towards him. They've both been touched by similar tragedies and if it weren't for her pride it might even make her like him.

Incidentally, that's impossible; Barry burnt that bridge.

With a few minutes to spare, she hurries to her first class of the day, taking her usual seat at the front, stealing a seat for her bag too.

"Ms. Snow," Professor Stein's voice booms through the room. "How kind of you to join us."

Caitlin freezes, eyes frantically shooting up.

She's not late, is she? She's never late, not ever, and Dr Stein's one of the most punctual teachers on campus. How long has he been here?

Her cheeks heat once she meets Professor Stein's stern stare.

"I'm sorry, Professor," she blurts out, a mild panic attack closing up her throat. "Won't happen again."

Professor Stein peers at her over the frames of his glasses. "See that it doesn't."

Far too slowly, she releases the breath she'd been holding. Did he have to pick today of all days to show up early? This is what happens when she splits her focus too much; she loses track of the things that really matter and ends up paying the price- she thinks it may be half the reason Charlotte left her.

"You, late, Snow?" Barry's voice comes from the row of seats directly behind her. "Now that's a story to tell the grandkids."

She rolls her eyes, and throws a weak, "Go suck a toe, Allen," over her shoulder, and he responds in kind with a giggle.

Mellow to Barry Allen? Not a chance. He ruined his shot at any sort of relationship the first day of class their freshman year, and that's a moment she won't soon forget. It's not a moment she reckons Professor Stein will soon forget, either, that's why she can't afford any more screw-ups in his classes.

Opening her notebook, she starts taking notes, and doesn't make a peep for the next forty-five minutes.

So she may be a little tightly wound when it comes to her academic career, but there's no shame in that. She's not going to compromise her future at college by being nice to every person who looks her way.

"Snow!" Barry's voice sounds down the hallway after class, and he soon catches up to her, out of breath.

She hugs her notebook close to her chest, as if it might lighten some of the weight lowered over it since her conversation with Cisco this morning- it hasn't yet, but she refuses to let that show. Everyone loses people at some point in their lives; it's futile to compare her grief to Barry's, or let that somehow make a difference in how she interacts with him.

"Don't call me that."

"Touchy." Barry grimaces. "Have you not taken your pills today?"

 _No_ , Caitlin thinks as her jaw clenches, she will not roll her eyes. She can rise above this.

She breathes in deep, summoning a smile. "What do you want?"

"Got an email from the study." Barry holds up his phone, a short formal email showing on the screen- there's another expression of gratitude over their interest and a few proposals for dates to schedule the interview on, most of them as early as next week.

She pulls out her diary and checks the dates and times. "Why don't we say Monday at 4?"

"You think that gives us enough time?"

"Yes," she says, with little to no hesitation. "The sooner this is over with, the better."

"And here I thought you were starting to warm up to me." Barry hovers a little closer, and grins, and for all the resolve she'd had a minute ago it's a surprise she manages to bite back immediately. Barry smells like- well, _aftershave_ , but it's the nice kind that's not too overpowering, and his eyes have this lovely color to them, and his smile's kind of lifting that weight she'd been carrying around.

She had a mind to tell Barry to make Iris back off, but she can't find a great many thoughts straying towards anything rational.

Could it be that she's actually –honestly- sort of attracted to Barry?

She blinks, and catches herself again—

"Not with all the time in the world, Allen."

—because isn't like her to second-guess herself; once she makes a decision she sticks to it, maybe amending it along the way, but she never backs down from the challenges she or others set for her. So why does she keep going back and forth on whether or not she should be nice to Barry? Why is it so hard for her to make up her mind about him?

It's not like he's the forbidden fruit.

.

That Saturday, she frees up time so she and Barry can brainstorm a good backstory for their fake relationship. Cisco left for the robotics lab early, without his morning coffee, but she figured he'd get his favorite at the Bean should his need grow too great. She could've sworn she heard him sing that stupid tree song outside her door this morning. There are no rules surrounding their bets that prohibited either party to taunt the other, so she expects she'll learn to live with it in due time.

Like Cisco, she'd been up earlier than usual, a disquiet below the surface of her skin, by now familiar. She'd tidied up the living room and the kitchen, and Cisco's room too, even though Barry would have no reason to go in there. She still wanted her living space to appear decent, if not only for her own peace of mind.

After setting out some snacks –potato chips and dip- she'd also made some notes on a fictional relationship that might come in handy.

She'd forced herself to wear old jeans and an old ratty Disney shirt- she needed to relax around Barry if she wanted to avoid this discomfort, the terrifying thought that underneath all her dislike for him there might in fact be some kind of affection. Which makes no sense at all; if she's cold as ice than Barry's a weak pilot light.

They're complete opposites and utterly incompatible.

As she expected, Barry's about fifteen minutes late, and when he shows up wheezing and out of breath she can't muster up any sympathy. Punctuality is an extremely attractive quality in a person, one woefully lacking in Barry- there's no cell in her body that should be attracted to the likes of him.

"Hey-y." Barry's eyes skim down the length of her body, while he mutters, "Sorry I'm late," and raises a hand to his forehead.

Staring down at her boring yet comfortable outfit Caitlin questions if she made the right choice in clothing- Barry's lips part and next thing he's traipsing inside and she can't take his, "Nice place," as anything but a maneuver meant to distract. If she's not careful Barry's going to give her a whiplash too and she hasn't recovered from the last one.

Could it be that -in some upside down world that's decidedly not the one she's been living in these past two years- Barry's attracted to her too?

"Oh, I forgot"—Barry turns to her once he's recaptured his composure—"Your mom's rich."

Like that, any positive feelings dissipate- Barry's really good at lowering her expectations. What's she thinking considering the notion that she might be attracted to Barry? Talk about humiliating.

They settle on the couch side by side, Barry going for the potato chips right away, getting crumbs all over the floor.

Drawing in a deep breath, Caitlin decides to ignore that for now. Two more days and all of this will be over; they can go back to their usual insults knowing they won't have to talk to each other outside of that.

"I made some notes I thought we could use," she says, and grabs her notebook, a short timeline sketched on the first page. Her finger lands on a branch of the timeline marked _February: First Date_ , and draws down to the next date, marked _First Time_. "We said we'd been dating for three months so that puts us in February of this year."

Would the people taking the study ask around in their circle of friends? Would they check their Facebook? If so, they might need to widen the scope of their deception.

Barry puffs out a breath. "This is never going to work."

 _Here we go_ , she thinks.

"You can't chart a relationship, Snow."

Caitlin pushes her lips together, and forces a deep breath into her lungs- she's not disagreeing; sketching a timeline of one's relationship should be reserved for scrapbooks or party invites, but what the hell else can they do?

"I mean"—Barry straightens—"if we're meant to convince these people we're dating, we might want to figure out how to convince them we _like_ each other first."

She frowns. All she's done is try to lay some groundwork; they're meeting today to fill in the details but they have to start from somewhere- a timeline is as good a place as any.

"Let me put it this way," Barry drawls as if talking to a child, each word encapsulated by his condescending tone. "What are you going to say when they ask about our first time?"

Her eyes narrow on Barry's face. What a condescending self-righteous asshole. As if she's never been in a relationship. As if she doesn't have any _stories_. Just because she's a girl doesn't mean she's ashamed or embarrassed to talk about this; she owns her sexuality and she enjoys sex. Why do guys assume she doesn't? Does Barry think her cold in this area too?

She'll show him.

"I'll tell them that after our third date you walked me to my door," she says, coming up with a scenario based on the plot points they'd already chosen answering the questionnaire.

"Like the gentleman I am," Barry supplies.

"You kissed me— and things progressed from there."

Caitlin wrings her hands together. See? This isn't difficult to talk about; she has prior experiences to draw from that can guide her through this. No sweat.

"I invited you inside, you kissed me again while we made our way to the bedroom. We—"

Caitlin draws in another breath, unable to meet Barry's eyes as she narrates their fictional first time together. Heat spreads up the back of her neck, reaching up into her cheeks. What would it be like to kiss Barry, have his thin lips caress her skin and his body heat merge with hers?

"—got undressed, wound each other up, and crawled underneath the sheets."

To have Barry's hips slotted between her legs, mouth hot on hers while he thrust inside her?

"You came," she says. "I didn't."

Nothing to it. It seems like a perfectly plausible first time- aren't they usually a little awkward? That's how she feels talking about it. That, and a little hot.

She looks at Barry, expecting to meet with some level of surprise, but to her disdain Barry seems- unimpressed?

"I came, _you didn't_?" His eyebrows knit together. "Where do you even—?"

"No." Barry shakes his head and grabs her notebook, turning to a new page. "I sincerely hope your actual sex life is more exciting than that."

Her—

How—

What's that supposed to mean? Is he insulted he isn't the hero of the story? Was she meant to go into every single detail with great vivid descriptions that would put Sappho to shame? She's a scientist, not a novelist.

But why should it come as a surprise that the well-read and wise Barry Allen thinks her inadequate to tell this story?

Caitlin falls back into the couch, crossing her arms and legs, glowering at the back of Barry's head, shooting lightning.

"Let's hear you do better."

"Okay." Barry takes out a pen and puts it to the paper, writing down some signal words for his story. "For our third date, on Valentine's day, I take you out for some Japanese food. I find out too late it's not your favorite, but you don't complain, even though that's uncharacteristic for you."

Caitlin rolls her eyes. The nerve of this guy.

"You'll later decide that's because you were falling in love with me." Barry looks at her sideways and winks- and while she has every intention of shooting him a death glare he's writing again before she gets the chance.

"We have a nice meal, we laugh a lot, and after dinner I walk you home, partly because I'm a gentleman, and partly because I'm hoping to get lucky."

Caitlin suppresses a small smile. At least Barry acknowledges that at the end of the day he's still a guy. Or human, because she craves that intimacy all the same.

"By the time we get to your door we're holding hands and we don't want to let go, but you've rolled your eyes at me about seventeen times already, and you're not sure you're in the mood. Who would be," Barry says, "with a guy as corny as me?"

"Corny?" She huffs. "Are we sure we're still talking about you?"

Barry scowls, but doesn't let her comment deter him. "But then," he says, "I kiss you. Just once, really softly, on the lips, and I gaze down into your eyes."

Her lips part. What would it be like, she wonders, to have Barry kiss her like that? To have him dot his fingertips along her jawline and tip her head back, smooth his lips along hers, soft and undemanding? It's been too long since she's been kissed like that.

"It feels like an eternity passes while we stand there, gazing into each other's eyes, realizing how much we've come to mean to each other, and somewhere in that eternity, in that forever, you invite me inside.

"Maybe it's love, maybe it's lust, but you don't think about that. Because there's only you and me and the rest of the world doesn't exist.

"We don't quite make it to the bedroom right away," Barry says, and glances over his shoulder, at the short hallway inside the door and points at it. "I catch you by the wrist right there, and draw you close. I kiss you deeper this time, encouraged when you throw your arms around me, and I feel my hands all over your body."

Turning back to the notebook, Barry adds a few words, and she tightens her arms around her chest, hoping to disguise the sight of her rampant heartbeat, shook to her core. Barry's making this so palpable –the setting, the pace- she's left to wonder if he's basing it on any of his own experiences. Even so, who knew he could tell a story in such vivid detail?

"You push my jacket off my shoulders and I help you out of your coat, but we don't separate once. We're so into each other and it feels like we've been waiting to do this for so long it's a wonder we haven't done it sooner. Because I'm crazy about you, and you might still be in denial, but you're crazy about me too.

"I want you"—Barry's voice deepens—"and I show you by pushing up against you."

Heat draws down her body. Barry pushed up hard against her, her legs opening, and—

"Somehow, neither of us are sure how, we make it to the bedroom, where you turn your back on me. Sweep your long hair aside. I kiss the base of your neck and you shiver, but show no apprehension once I unzip your dress, and it pools around your feet on the floor.

"You turn and I kiss you. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

Caitlin's breathing deepens, coming from somewhere deep below her lungs, hazy and thin, and she unfolds her arms to push her hands between her thighs- is it all those books Barry reads that's given him such imaginative power?

"You help me out of my shirt and my pants, and you can't help but cop a feel."

How would Barry feel, in her hand?

"Then, we lie down on the bed, on top of the sheets, and we lose ourselves in kissing. We could do that all night and not go any further and we'd be fine. But we both know where the night's really going."

How would Barry feel, on top of her? Would he be heavy?

"Then, with your permission, I trail kisses down your neck, between your breasts, down your abdomen, and I peel off your panties ever so slowly."

Her breath hitches. Would he?

"I gently push your legs apart, and tease my lips over the inside of your thighs, and then my mouth's on you.

"You squirm and you moan, and you whisper my name."

 _Barry_.

"I treat you like that for a long time. I lick and tease and feel your growing frustration when you push against my mouth, so I start to make sure you get where you need to go.

"I love this part.

Love this part? Where did he ever learn about this part? Caitlin presses her thighs together, trying to ignore the steady pulsing between her legs.

"Your hand's in my hair, and your back arches, and you're so loud when you finally come.

"Moaning. Almost crying. Sighing.

"That's how you treat a girl."

Caitlin blinks a few times.

Maybe she hasn't dated enough men to form a definitive conclusion, but in her experience guys her age don't put their girlfriend's climax first; in fact, most of them don't care at all.

Did Barry have to be the one who was different?

"What do you think?" Barry asks, and she finds him staring at her, the picture of calm, as if he hadn't narrated an erotic story and done her the courtesy of not adding his own climax.

Caitlin clears her throat, willing herself together again. "Works for me."

"Why don't I make up the stories that go with your weird timeline," Barry suggests, giving her sketch another gander, "and you just study them afterwards?"

She has a mind to joke about Barry's sudden level of commitment, but her body's still itchy in all the right places.

Caitlin shrugs. "Fine."

Half an hour later Barry leaves with his notes and hers, and promises to email her later today- it's a better game plan than she expected them to have. With Barry's short notes they can both come up with their own stories in their own words, while still keeping the details identical.

It's quite smart, if she's being honest.

By the time Cisco comes home she's still on the couch, unable to shake the mental image of Barry sitting next to her, telling her a sex story with the two of them as the main protagonist- she'd worry about being objectified if this whole thing hadn't been her idea, or if she hadn't been doing the same thing to Barry for the past few hours.

"How's Lisa?"

She zones in on Cisco immediately, grateful for the distraction.

"Lisa?" Cisco asks.

"I assume that's why you were out so early? She had a shift at the Bean?"

"That's—" Cisco sputters and stares at the ceiling, an adorable tell her best friend has whenever he's at a loss for words. "She's so into me, Caitlin!"

"Then why don't you ask her out?" She teases. Despite her drunken dare she does wish Cisco all the happiness in the world; she'd hate to think she ruined something good for him. "Minus the peanuts this time."

"I will." Cisco's eyes darken. "How was your romantic timelining with Barry?"

Damn it. Why did Cisco play this game so well too?

Heat diffuses in her cheeks again. She turns back to her biochemistry notes, still stuck on page two. "You owe me ten."

"We'll see."

"Yes, we will."

After everything she's done for this bet, there's no way she won't see this through. Barry seems motivated, and she sees no reason for her to back out now that they've come so far. So what if she's attracted to Barry- she's been attracted to a lot of people who came and went without anything happening between them.

"You want to grab a bite?" Cisco asks.

"Can't." She worries her lower lip between her teeth, and lies, "I need to study."

Lucky for her Cisco has no reason to catch her in the lie, and she wouldn't want to give him any reason to. He retreats quietly into his room and doesn't question her.

But forget studying. She has a date with her vibrator tonight.

.

On Sunday evening, the day before they're set to enter the study, Caitlin convinces Barry to head into town with her for an hour or two, so they can take some pictures together in case the researchers ask for one. If Barry hadn't put so much work into their backstory she might not have suggested it, but he had, and the carefully crafted idea of their relationship was nothing short of idyllic. Who knew Barry had such a way with words?

It's been a sweltering sort of day, the brunt of the heat finally breaking with a soft breeze.

"Say cheese," Barry calls for about the twelfth time, and throws an arm around her shoulder, raising his phone high enough to capture both their faces. They both plaster on a wide smile and look into the camera, waiting for Barry to snap the picture.

And the result is surprisingly pleasant to see- she's even hazard to say they look convincing, as a couple.

Should that scare her?

Maybe today was about more than her overthinking things, but rather an excuse to spend time with Barry. It's been seven months since her break-up with Charlotte, six months since Cisco came into her life and showed her there's more to life than school—

Maybe she's ready for something new.

Maybe it's time to finally move on- for too long she's held onto the notion that she scared Charlotte away, that maybe she needed to put having a relationship on hold until after school, or maybe she wasn't cut out for them. Now she's realized they probably just weren't compatible. Charlotte needed her undivided attention, something she couldn't give her.

"You know what, Snow?" Barry says, scrolling through the slew of selfies they've taken. "We might actually pull this off."

"I think you're right," she agrees with a smile, and bumps their shoulders together. It only goes to show what people can accomplish when they put their differences aside. She wonders if Cisco knew that and purposely set her on Barry's path. She should go talk to Lisa for him some time, to smooth things over. _Cisco and Lisa, sitting in a tree..._

It's the least she could do.

" _Shit_ ," Barry whispers underneath his breath all of a sudden, and his entire body starts stuttering with nerves- his head whips to the other side and he freezes, stock-still, as if the wind itself might betray his position.

"What?" she asks, and glances around, but all she sees is a cute couple coming their way, and by the looks of it they haven't taken note of them.

"That's Patty"—Barry rubs the back of his neck, and grimaces, his eyes pained and sad—"She's—"

 _The old girlfriend_. Caitlin's lips part at the realization, and her chest weighs with that same familiar dread- she'd want to avoid this too. She wouldn't be able to look Charlotte in the eyes if she tried.

So what she does, she does without giving it much thought, with little other plan than distract Barry and make this a little less awkward.

She rises on her toes and reaches a hand for Barry's face, bringing their lips together.

She kisses Barry Allen, her sworn enemy, in the middle of the street, right in front of his ex-girlfriend, for everyone to see- Barry melts down with a short 'hmpf' of surprise, but makes no move to push her off.

It isn't much of a kiss, nothing more than the soft peck Barry had once described to her, but it has the desired effect.

"Barry?" comes Patty's voice, and Caitlin strategically pulls back- Barry stares down into her eyes, and she smiles, motioning an eyebrow towards Patty. Are those butterflies, in her stomach?

"Patty"—Barry clears his throat and breathes in deep—"Hey," he says, and they both turn towards Patty and her boyfriend. Caitlin takes hold of Barry's hand and intertwines their fingers. For effect.

"How have you been?"

"Good." Barry nods, still a bit jittery. Last time she saw Charlotte she'd gotten so tongue-tied she turned tail and ran, so Barry's doing well so far. She didn't often possess the countenance to face her demons.

"Busy," Barry adds, before she gives his hand a light squeeze. "This is Caitlin."

"It's lovely to meet you." Patty smiles wide, something truly genuine behind it, like there is behind Barry's smile. Why did they break up? More importantly, _when_ did they break up? Because whether Barry likes it or not, people do move on, and while it sucks to see an ex with someone new, especially if a break-up wasn't mutual, there has to come a time when he puts himself first. There's no need for him to feel awkward.

Three days ago she wouldn't have given Barry that much credit. Now look at her.

The conversation falls silent faster than she expected, Barry and Patty shuffling where they stand, she and the new boyfriend unsure about how to proceed. So she decides for everyone; they might as well use the situation as a dry run for their interview tomorrow.

"I hate to do this," she says, squeezing her other hand around Barry's arm. "But we're meeting some friends."

"Of course." Patty brightens, relief showing in her big eyes. "We don't want to keep you."

Without any further pleasantries they all part ways- Caitlin and Barry continue on their way, holding hands until Patty and her boyfriend are out of sight.

"Thank you," Barry sighs gratefully the moment they're alone again.

This is a side of him she's never seen, this vulnerability few people show unless they're caught in a precarious situation. Coming face to face with an ex will do that.

"She seemed nice."

"She is." Barry nods, and laughs. "Did you think I only dated She Devils?"

She blinks up at Barry, staring up into his green eyes longer than necessary- what would her life look like if she hadn't taken Cisco's bet, or if Barry said yes but they hadn't decided to go through with the whole thing?

She's had to revise a lot of her opinions of late, none more than how she viewed Barry. What happened between them happened, and there's nothing either of them can do about it, but maybe they don't have to take it into their future.

Maybe they could be friends. Science-fiction novels aren't that terrible.

"Why do you do this? With Cisco?" Barry asks out of the blue, and he won't be the last one. Few people understood her reasons for taking any of his challenges, and sometimes, she has trouble reasoning it to herself.

"It's our thing." Caitlin shrugs, wiring her fingers together. "It's helped me move on from my own Patty."

But really it's a pride thing, much like this Grudge she's held towards Barry, a not-too-lovely character flaw that's haunted her since childhood. It's hard for her to give up control, to accept that Cisco's better at her at something when she has all the same skills and talents to rise to the challenges, and it's equally difficult to admit that Barry's probably better at this college thing than she is, that she envies the way he's let the system work for him, rather than follow every single one of its rules to a tee.

Her pride has soured her relationship with her mom, whose pride she inherited, and it's destroyed a fair share of romantic relationships too.

What she really needs in her life are people like Cisco, who never take any of her nonsense.

Barry smiles softly. "You want to grab some coffee?"

"Sure."

No harm ever came from having a cup of coffee with someone.

At the coffee shop they settle at a small table for two, sitting opposite each other as Barry cups his hot coffee between both his hands, while she enjoys an iced latte. She can't remember when she last had this with anyone but Cisco, time away from schoolwork and heartbreak to enjoy some simple conversation. Barry's about the last person she thought she'd have that with.

"You really didn't have to do that," Barry says, a little shy, another more vulnerable layer showing. "With Patty."

Where has this Barry been all this time?

Oh, that's right; she never bothered getting to know him.

"I know what it's like to run into someone you—" Caitlin folds her arms together on top of the table, straining to show her own vulnerable.

Someone she loved. She loved Charlotte and she left, without an explanation, without a goodbye, without any warning.

This break-up wasn't on her.

"—and see they're fine, while you're—" she struggles for words, and anything else to hold onto that isn't simply her pride, yet again.

"A hopeless wreck?" Barry supplies, granting her the affirmation she seeks; she's entitled to feel betrayed and hurt, and she certainly doesn't deserve all the blame.

"I wouldn't call you hopeless." She cocks an eyebrow, and a small smile betrays her mirth- she never thought to relate to Barry on such a deep level, never thought she'd even get as close to liking him as much as she does, and that doesn't even have anything to do with her attraction to him- they're two separate things, and there's no room for at least one of them.

"Still." Barry smiles. "I was wrong about you."

A few days ago she might've replied with something snarky. Now she can't bring herself to.

"I always thought you were cold," Barry says, and looks her straight in the eyes, almost challenging, as if he's hoping to get a rise out of her. "Turns out you're just a tough nut to crack."

Her eyes narrow. "I don't think I'm anyone's nut to crack."

"You're right." Barry laughs. "Wrong choice of words. I apologize."

Finally, she allows herself to laugh too. "For what it's worth, I was wrong about you too."

For too long she's let her first impression of people dictate how she felt about them, and that has to stop- Barry's an okay guy, but she never would have known that if she hadn't let him into her life, or, more accurately, if Cisco hadn't challenged her to let him in. Maybe she could do with some further loosening up.

Barry raises his coffee for a toast. "To being wrong."

She smiles and clinks her plastic cup against Barry's.

To being wrong it is.

Like a true gentleman, Barry walks her back to her apartment. It sounds like the start of one of Barry's juicy stories, but she doubts that's on either of their minds. They've had a lovely few hours together, they've both let go of some of their pride- all in all, it's been a productive day so far.

"How did we ever get to this?" Barry asks as she opens the door to her apartment, and she comes up with a frown. Get to this? Get to what?

"Us?" Barry asks. "Hating each other?"

Caitlin's face falls. The past few days come tumbling down like a house of cards- her mind reels and her thoughts spin out of control. She's gone through the toughest week of her life, revising her every opinion of Barry, shouldering the blame for what went wrong between them, and now he has the audacity to claim he doesn't remember what happened? In what world?

What's he trying to accomplish?

She bristles. "You got me kicked out of Professor Stein's lecture."

Their first one, to be precise, and given how important first impressions are in class- the nerve Barry has to bring this up again.

"Oh, I did?" Barry's eyebrows rise, along with his signature cocky grin. "I seem to remember a strategically placed bag in the only available seat."

She knew it; he does remember and he's trying to rile her up, but to what purpose? Did Barry prefer this love/hate thing they've kept going for the past two years?

"You shouldn't have showed up late," she fumes, the whole experience coming back to her so vividly it sets her cheeks on fire- her and Barry started arguing in the middle of Dr Stein's class and as a result they'd both been kicked out. She'd never been more humiliated in her entire life and it's the day she vowed Barry Allen would never charm her.

She should've stuck with that decision.

Oh, he didn't care; he traipsed his way through the system and school and homework with that charm and Harry Styles smile, but what about the rest of them?

"You shouldn't have hogged the seat," Barry fires back.

Caitlin grinds her teeth together, and yells, "You are so...!"

"What?" Barry asks decisively and takes a challenging step forward- Caitlin holds her ground, but not before her eyes skip to Barry's lips, and it's crazy how being angry at him is also sort of turning her on right now.

 _I walk you home. Partly because I'm a gentleman, and partly because I'm hoping to get lucky._

Was that Barry's intention?

Rile her up so they could give in to this palpable attraction between them?

"You're impossible," she exasperates, but she's no sooner spoken or Barry falls forward to bring their lips together, the prototypical boy on the playground who plucks at a girl's pigtails to let her know he likes her—

 _I kiss you. Just once, really softly, on the lips._

But there's nothing soft about this; with little rational thought left Caitlin rises on her toes and clasps a hand around Barry's neck, making the kiss not soft, not sweet, but deep and warm and passionate.

Lust sears through her like a hot knife, its blade cutting a line down her spine, leaving it red hot and bleeding.

She pushes them both through the door and soon she's pressed up against the back of it, their bags dropping to the floor, their breathing harsh and ragged. Barry pushes himself up against her.

 _I want you, and I show you by pushing up against you._

Caitlin shivers, and bites behind Barry's ear, and then shoves at his chest, urging him into her bedroom before Cisco finds them in some compromising position.

The door falls shut behind her.

It's too late to question what they're doing and why they're doing it; it feels like they've been waiting to do this for so long it's a miracle they managed to hold it off for so long- Barry's hands cup her face and his tongue pushes past her lips, teasing against hers, almost tickling. Her hands land on his chest right above his heart, beating rampant like hers, and she kicks off her shoes, waiting for Barry to do the same.

They trace a few steps towards the bed, and topple over, unable to take their hands off each other.

Caitlin rises on her arms and stares down at Barry, his body heat sinking along her legs and torso and there's not a single thought in her mind that wants out of this now- they've made their bed and now they'll lie in it, though she's certain this isn't what the expression had in mind. She sits up straddling Barry's lap and unbuttons her blouse, while he wriggles beneath her to take off his shirt.

Revealed is an expanse of skin, pale like her own, with so many freckles she's tempted to count them all; smaller ones delineated along his sides, bigger darker ones along the gentle rise of his collarbone.

Barry's lips move, but he swallows any running commentary as her fingers caress a long gentle line down his torso, goosebumps rising in their wake. Neither of them is cold, though.

Her body pulses with her need for this, with her desire, and when she leans in again, when she captures Barry's lips and his hands grab around her ass she moans her frustration- it's been too long and whatever played between her and Barry has become too visceral to ignore. Caitlin's tongue pushes into his mouth and then one of Barry's hands is in her hair, guiding hers.

She bears her hips down against his crotch, coaxing a groan out of him that sounds equal parts as frustrated. Smiling triumphantly she bites at Barry's lower lip- he winces.

"Damn it, Snow," Barry curses, breathing hard into her mouth- he tastes like mints and his caramel macchiato, and when she pulls at his hair she can feel his throat bob beneath the touch of her other hand. Whatever, he knows she likes to be in control.

Long fingers hike her skirt up higher, slip between her legs chasing heat and stroke her through her panties- she rewards him by grinding her hips against his, starting a slow and steady rhythm.

 _We lie down on the bed, on top of the sheets, and we lose ourselves in kissing._

Their bodies start an intoxicating dance and they get lost in that for a while, trading greedy openmouthed kisses, losing their breath, losing themselves in each other. Barry brushes her hair back and gathers it up in a small ball at the back of her neck, and she trembles with excitement- Barry's going to treat her right, she knows that.

She's not in the habit of doing this, sleeping with the first guy who comes along after a bad break-up, yet strange but true she's found a kinship in Barry she didn't think she'd find- she thinks he might need this as much as she does.

Pleasure tickles between her thighs and she sits up again- Barry comes with her this time, pulling her closer by the waist so their bodies remain locked together. It's crazy how much she's missed this pull, the feel of someone else's arms around her, there for no other reason but a shared desire. Reaching around her back she undoes her bra and tosses it to the floor- she kisses Barry again, one of his hands coming up to cup her breast, massaging at it gently.

He rolls her nipple carefully between his fingers, leaving her breathless.

His mouth moves down her neck, lips nipping at her skin, and she scratches at his shoulders. There's something close to mad crawling beneath the surface of her skin, and she must be, giving herself over to Barry like this- except he seems to be as into it as she is, and even if this is one time, even if they go back to ignoring each other around campus, she wants to make every moment of this count.

Without warning, Barry grabs his arm around her waist tight and switches their positions, picking her up with little to no effort and laying her down against the sheets. Her breathing deepens, heartbeat racing at the sight of Barry's lithe frame, all wiry in all the right places while his arms simply impress.

He kisses her long and deep, before he starts pulling back, nipping at her lips, using his tongue only to tease- she opens her legs just to feel his weight on top of her, shaking when he moves on from her mouth and grazes his teeth over a sensitive spot behind her ear. Where did he get all this? How did he learn? Who taught him so well?

They all become questions for later once Barry's mouth ventures lower, and the tips of his fingers tickle down her sides, as if he's afraid she might break. As if he knows it drives her wild.

She giggles, and even though part of her regrets it a little, she makes no attempt to stop him- Barry massages at her breasts one by one, trails kisses between them, drops more featherlight touches of his mouth further down, nuzzling his nose near her bellybutton.

Then, he deftly unzips her skirt, and, hooking two fingers on either side, peels off her skirt and panties, skimming them down her legs and discarding them on the floor.

His mouth hovers near her hip, and when he meets her eyes, when his sparkle something naughty and nice at the same time, he gently starts nudging her legs apart. Heat draws down her body and settles between her legs- she can't believe he's giving her what their fictitious first time promised.

"Is this okay?" Barry asks, followed by a cheeky grin, and she rolls her eyes. She fails to find the pride to answer though, because Barry's mouth lands on her inner thigh, tongue precocious small strokes against her skin, teasing closer and closer.

Caitlin tries not to squirm, but her body's screaming- her legs lift up off the sheets, bending at the knees, planted either side of Barry. For a few moments the cold of the room nips along her skin, but then Barry's tongue is on her, and she ignites with desire- Barry's mouth is hot and wet and makes her wetter still.

She melts into the mattress as Barry continues to lick over her, long and delicious, from the bottom to the top, anywhere but her clit. Luckily she likes this kind of teasing; it's how she teases herself more often than not, though she has to admit Barry's tongue does things to her she never expected.

Hands hooked around her thighs Barry runs his tongue over one side of her, then the other and her hand tangles in his hair, not to guide him, not to take control, but to clench and unclench every few moments- if the hitches in her breathing don't give away her excitement her hand surely does.

It feels so good Barry could drag this out for hours and she wouldn't mind- he could work her up and bring her down until his jaw locked up, and she'd do the same to him.

Until Barry plants a kiss over her clit- her abdomen contract, and she longs for more of the same, chasing a sweet release.

Closing her eyes, her heels dig into the mattress, and her back arches a little, more each time Barry's tongue flicks over her clit.

"Barry," she breathes, hoping it signals that she wants him to keep doing what he's doing, because she's too far gone to coach him through this properly- that can be sexy too, in certain situations, but Barry seems to be on top of this.

Sweet thrills shoot through her thighs as Barry licks all over her once more, echoing up her sides the more he zeroes in on her clit, his tongue now set a steady pace, swiping and sucking until he starts drawing the same shape over and over, over and over,

Over and over-

She shudders and moans and tightens a hand in Barry's hair, and she curls in on herself as release washes through her- her breath catches at the back of her throat and she holds it there, groaning as Barry works her through her orgasm, twitching each time he licks over her.

" _Stop_ ," she whispers, her legs shaky and sweaty, and Barry nuzzles near her hip again.

A content smile curls around her lips- too few guys she's been with have ever put her release first, or assumed she'd take care of that herself. Why'd it have to be Barry Allen, though, who proved there were still gentlemen in the world?

She laughs. God, what is she even doing?

"What's so funny?" Barry mutters, treating her hip to an overabundance of kisses.

"Hmm," she hums, and licks her lips. "It's your turn."

She crawls up to the head of the bed and -turning onto her stomach- opens the drawer of the bedside table, reaching inside for a condom. Meanwhile Barry strips out his pants and finds his way back to her, dotting kisses up her spine- it sends tingles all throughout her body and warms her from the inside out. It's intimate, is what it is, and she's been deprived of that for far too long.

"You okay?" Barry asks, caressing the tip of his nose over her shoulder.

Caitlin rolls her eyes. But she's sort of glad he can't see it.

"Yeah," she says softly, and turns underneath him, encased by his arms, his legs, his entire body, and, she realizes, his eyes. Making up a story like he had was one thing, but experiencing first hand Barry's the lover he described, gentle, caring, thoughtful, that's a lot to take in; though not entirely unwelcome.

Without releasing his eyes, she reaches down between them, stroking him a few times with one hand, before she adds the other.

Barry bites at his lower lip.

She really likes being in control.

"You're so cocky, Snow," Barry says, but it's followed by a smile, and then a kiss and she can barely contain her laughter. Sex has rarely been this fun, or this amazing, at the first try.

Bumping their noses together, Barry kisses her soft and sweet, while she works her hands up and down- Barry sighs against her lips and shudders, and she laughs again. With no second thought she rips open the wrapper and reaches down, rolling on the condom.

She kisses Barry sweetly, just once, and looks at his face- her fingers draw down his cheek and not for the first time she catches herself thinking he's not too bad looking. If it weren't for some of his less appealing character flaws she might even consider dating him—

Caitlin pulls Barry down into another kiss, too hot and bothered to follow that train of thought right now. It's fine if this isn't anything more than what it is, just sex; she's never had this much fun in bed and if it's just this one time, if they go their separate ways in spite of this, she won't have any regrets.

She opens her legs, and guides Barry as he lowers over her, easing inside her one slow breath at a time- her breath hitches and Barry stills, waiting for her to adjust. Her fingers tighten in his hair, scratching at his scalp. Their mouths find each other again, a deep reaching kiss, and Caitlin moans as Barry rolls his hips.

Hips so wide she can't hike up her legs around Barry's waist, can't wire around him quite like she wants to, but Barry remedies that- he reaches down and grabs around her thigh, shifting them both onto their sides, facing each other. Her leg draped along his hip, Barry pulls back and thrusts up inside her, much deeper than a moment ago.

"Barry," she breathes hot against his mouth, and Barry starts moving, a slow torturous rhythm that eases a calm all through her body-

An eternity passes in their togetherness, an urgent now erasing a forever-ago. A sheen of sweat covers their skin, broken only where their fingers grope and grab and caress, where their lips bite and lick and kiss, and somewhere in that eternity, in that forever, when Barry buries his face in her hair he also buries her name, he comes inside her and shivers and trembles and falls apart, not unlike she does, all over again.

Barry pulls back all shuddery and throbbing, a vulnerable in his eyes she's not sure she's ever witnessed in anyone.

"Well," she muses, "that happened."

Barry cracks and laughs, and curls into her again, staying right where he was all pressed up against her.

She's not the only one who knows how to lighten the mood.

Caitlin draws her hand back and forth through Barry's hair, while his fingers play with her curls.

They don't speak.

They don't need to.

.

The next morning, on her way to sneak into the bathroom so she can brush her teeth really quick, she finds one ten-dollar bill slid under her door.

 _You win_ , the note attached to it reads, and she covers a hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle.

"What's that?" comes Barry's groggy voice, and she hears him shifting in the bed.

Glancing back over her shoulder, dressed in the shirt he wore the night before, she can hardly believe what she's seeing; Barry Allen, with his boyband smile and CW hair that's gotten all tousled, looking a picture in her bed. She has fallen into an upside down world, but she doesn't want out just yet.

She tiptoes back towards the bed and surreptitiously throws the ten-dollar bill at Barry's head.

"For your trouble," she quips, unable to contain her laughter.

Lightning fast, faster than her eyes can register, Barry's arm shoots out and grabs around her, sending her down into the bed once more, laughing, squealing, having more fun than she's had in a long long time.

.

.

 **fin**

.


End file.
